To Remember, To Love
by Kitai Shinsei
Summary: Will is called to wake Bran from a coma and the two realise their feelings for each other go beyond good friends. **SLASH**


Disclaimer: Will Stanton, Bran Davies, Merriman Lyon and any aspects relating to The Dark Is Rising Sequence are the property of Susan Cooper. I'm just borrowing them for a bit and I'm not making any money off of this.  
  
Warnings: This story contains slash between Will Stanton and Bran Davies. This means that Will Stanton and Bran Davies are in LOVE with each other. They are ROMANTICALLY INVOLVED WITH EACH OTHER. If you do not like that sort of thing then do not read it. Simple.  
  
Author's Notes: Well . I was reading the books again and decided to write a fanfic. I mean. Susan Cooper is just asking for fics to be written. Especially Slash, just look at this line from Silver on the Tree: "...Loving bonds," Merriman said, "are outside the control even of the High Magic, for they are the strongest thing on all of this earth." So here is my fic. It's my first Dark Is Rising fic so be gentle!  
  
Extra notes (I'm really rambling now, aren't I? XD): I've set this in current time even though it should be set in the 80's. I'm sorry, but I really don't know hospital systems from back then (For all I was born in 1985 -_-). So this is set in 2003. Fanfic Author's license.  
  
~*~  
  
Title: To Remember, To Love Chapter: 1 Author: Kitai Shinsei  
  
"Will? Will love?" Will Stanton was roused from a peaceful sleep by his mother's insistent voice and her knocking on his bedroom door. "Will? Are you up?"  
  
Will opened his eyes, stifling a groan. "Yeah Mum. I'm up." He sat up, running a hand through his tussled hair. He smoothed a crease on his shirt and caught sight of the burn scar on his arm. He rarely gave any thought to it now. The sign of the Light, a circle quartered by a cross, had accidentally been branded into his arm soon after he had turned eleven and had come into his own as an Old One of the Light. He'd had that scar for six years now; he was seventeen, and yet not. He was far, far older.  
  
"Will? There's a man here to see you. He says his name's Merriman Lyon. He looks familiar." Will was instantly alert. His old mentor rarely came to visit him these days.  
  
"I'm coming Mum." He bounded out of his room and down the stairs, pausing only to plant a quick kiss on his mother's cheek.  
  
"Slow down!" She called, "You'll break your neck!"  
  
Not likely. Will thought to himself. Old Ones were immortal.  
  
Will opened the back door and peered out. It was a sunny day for once and the early-autumn sunshine shone brilliantly on the browning grass and late- summer flowers. Even so, it was very warm. Which was why the old man standing at the door in a dark suit and long black coat looked very out-of- place.  
  
"Merriman!" Will said happily. "It's been a long time." Mentally he asked. 'What's wrong?'  
  
"Yes it has." Merriman agreed amiably, carrying on the show of obvious old friends for Will's mother who was watching from the stairs. "Will, I'm afraid I'm not a bearer of good tidings today."  
  
Will searched the other Old One's worriedly and, finding nothing in the man's expression, stepped aside and invited him in. "Yes, come inside."  
  
Merriman walked through the door, ducking to stop his head banging on the frame. Inside, he looked even more imposing.  
  
The two went to sit in the living room, Will's mother following, a look of concern on her face.  
  
"Will, I'm afraid your friend, Bran Davies has had an accident." Merriman said, with a warning glance at the boy.  
  
'The Dark?' Will demanded mentally, while his voice said, incredulously, "Bran?"  
  
'We are uncertain, Old One.' Merriman replied sadly in Will's mind. Vocally he said, "Yes. He was hiking and he fell. He's in a coma."  
  
"Oh no." Mrs Stanton said softly, "Oh Will, isn't that your friend you met in Wales after you had hepatitis?"  
  
Will nodded in acknowledgement to his mother's question, while mentally demanding information from the older man. 'The Dark cannot be rising again. Not so soon!'  
  
'Not so soon, indeed young Will. But the Dark is still spiteful over its defeat. It is angry. It may have taken its anger out on Bran.'  
  
'But Bran isn't the Pendragon any more. He's just a mortal! A boy! He doesn't even remember!'  
  
'Ah, but Will, he helped the Light. That is enough for the Dark to hate him. After all, the Dark hates everyone.' Then Merriman spoke, using his voice. "Will, there is no guarantee that Bran will come out of his coma. According to the doctors, he sustained very bad injuries. I would like to know if you would like to travel to Wales to see him."  
  
"Yes!" Will said immediately.  
  
"But Will, we can't afford to send you all the way to Wales." Mrs Stanton looked distraught.  
  
"I will gladly take him over there myself." Merriman said. "I am friends with Bran's father and I'm travelling there tonight, if you would allow Will to join me."  
  
"Oh! That is kind of you, Mr Lyon. If it's not too much trouble."  
  
"No trouble at all, my dear." Merriman assured her. He watched with grim amusement as Will raced back upstairs to pack a bag. In his room his thoughts raced. Bran? Hurt? Comatose? Why? Five years ago he had been vital in the defeat of the Dark, but then the whole incident was wiped from his memory, and all he knew is that Will was a friend he had met at Clwyd farm near Halloween six years ago. It had been.  
  
Will stopped. Calling down to Merriman with his mind he asked, 'You say Bran was out hiking?'  
  
'Yes, he was.'  
  
'The Brenin Llwyd was never killed, was it? It is still there above Llyn Mwyngil.'  
  
'Yes.'  
  
'And while the Brenin Llwyd could not harm Bran himself, it could have easily startled him, making him fall.'  
  
'True.' Merriman's tone was thoughtful.  
  
Will fell silent, throwing his clothes together in his bag.  
  
'Is there nothing the Light can do for Bran?' He asked at last.  
  
'I have tried, Will. But I want you to try as well. There may be something an old friend can do that I cannot.' Merriman replied, and from his tone, Will knew that his mentor believed there to be little hope for Bran. He simply wanted to allow Will the chance to say goodbye.  
  
Will zipped his bag shut, walked solemnly down the stairs and the two Old Ones left together.  
  
*  
  
A few hours later, Will and Merriman stood in front of the hospital at Aberdyfi. It was a tall block structure of about nine stories, painted white, and the pale pink curtains were vaguely visible through the barred windows. The sky was grey and a light drizzle fell, stinging Will's face slightly, and the wind, though not too cold, blew with enough strength to make the two Old Ones pull their jackets closer about them.  
  
Will instinctively looked up to the seventh window on the third floor. "Bran's up there." He said, his voice a monotone. He looked up at his mentor who nodded.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"It's very bad." Will's tone was not inquisitive. He knew.  
  
"It is. He may not survive."  
  
Will closed his eyes against oncoming tears and walked towards the large double doors, past the lone security guard and into the warm building. It smelled of medicine and disinfectant, all grey-tiled floors, whitewashed walls and baby pink curtains that valiantly tried and failed to make the place seem less hospital-like. With Merriman, Will went over to reception.  
  
"Yes, how may I help you?" Said the woman in the hospital uniform, her voice soft and lilting like that of all the Welsh.  
  
"We're here to visit Bran Davies. He was in an accident on the mountains." Will said.  
  
"Oh yes, the albino boy." The woman said, and Will felt a rush of indignation on Bran's behalf at such a classing. "He's in room 309 on the third floor."  
  
"Thank you." Will said and the two Old Ones made their way over to the elevator and took it up to the right floor. The doors opened into a corridor that bore the same kind of decoration as the ground floor. Grey floor, white walls, pink curtains. They turned left down the hall towards the waiting room where they found a man sitting there, face in his hands. The man had dark hair, greying slightly at the temples and was dressed as though he'd just come from the farm.  
  
"Mr Davies?" Will said tentatively, walking over to him.  
  
Owen Davies of Clwyd Farm jerked upright at the sound of Will's voice and squinted at the boy for a few seconds before recognition dawned on his face. "Will Stanton." He looked puzzled. "How did you hear? About Bran?" Then he caught sight of Merriman. "Ah. My friend here contacted you."  
  
'So you really are an old friend of his?' Will asked Merriman silently. The other Old One nodded slightly. Aloud, Will said, "How is Bran?"  
  
Owen Davies sighed. "He is not good. He fell a long way. John Rowland's found him."  
  
"Um, can I go see him?" The brown-haired boy asked, looking towards Bran's door.  
  
Owen Davies waved his hand in the direction of the room. "He's in there. Diolch Will. Thank you. For coming."  
  
Will glanced at Merriman who shooed him off with a nod of his head. 'Go Old One.' Merriman sat down next to Owen Davies, offering silent comfort.  
  
With one more look at his mentor and friend's father, Will pulled the handle on the door and stepped inside. Bran lay on his back, motionless, connected to intra-venous drips and an incessantly beeping heart monitor. A bandage was wrapped tightly round his white hair where a red smudge of blood above his left eyebrow showed where he had been hurt. His arms were lying still by his sides, a thick plaster cast on his left one. He was so still that if it were not for the faint rise and fall of his chest, Will, a lump rising in his throat, would have believed him dead already.  
  
Will reached for a chair and sat down next to the unconcious boy and grasped his undamaged hand gently in his own. "Hey Bran." He said softly, hoping with an almost naïve hope that Bran would open his eyes at the sound of his voice and wonder what the hell all the fuss was about. But the pale boy remained motionless.  
  
Will sighed. "Bran, come on. After all we've been through, you can't die like this." Bran did not stir. "Bran." Will trailed off, an old thought forming in his mind from an Old One's knowledge. He could dream-walk. Go into another's dreams. Wake them up, maybe even bring them out of a coma. It was a small hope, but it was hope nonetheless.  
  
'Merriman? I know what I must do. May I?' He asked silently, and received a reply by the same means. 'You may.'  
  
Will took a deep breath and took up Bran's hand again. He emptied his mind of any thoughts except those of Bran and Bran's mind. He felt a rushing sensation and felt as though he was engulfed in white mist which then cleared, leaving Will standing on the familiar Welsh landscape of Clwyd Farm. The dark-haired boy stared around him uncertainly. His surroundings were so detailed that it seemed impossible that it was only a dream.  
  
The sound of laughter a few meters away alerted him, and Will looked ahead to see the familiar pale-skinned, white-haired face of Bran, playing with a white sheepdog with a black mark shaped like a saddle on his back. The dog looked up and stared at Will. Will's stomach rolled over. The eyes of the dog were silvery-blue, and gazed at him with recognition.  
  
"Bran." Will said.  
  
The albino started and stared at Will, his face breaking into a joyful grin. "Will! What are you doing here, back in Wales?"  
  
Will smiled sadly back at the other boy and bit his lip. "I. came to see you, actually."  
  
"Oh? I'm touched. Hey! Look who's here! It's Cafal! I thought he was dead, I truly did. But I was coming back from my walk and there he was!" Bran fondled the dog's ears happily.  
  
"Bran. um. this is just a dream. That's not really Cafal." Will said, kneeling in front of the other boy.  
  
"What are you on about? Of course it's Cafal! No other dog looks like this."  
  
"It's your memory of Cafal, Bran. You were in an accident on the mountain. You fell. Right now you're lying in a hospital bed. In a coma."  
  
"Nice try Will." Bran laughed after staring at Will for a few seconds. "You almost had me there."  
  
"Bran, I'm serious. You know me. Would I ever joke about something like this?"  
  
Bran didn't say anything, but he gave Cafal's neck a scratch. Will leaned over and pinched Bran's arm. "Didn't hurt, did it?"  
  
Bran stared down at his arm in puzzlement. "Then how come you're here?"  
  
"Bran. how much do you remember about. that year when you first met the Drews?"  
  
Bran's forehead creased with concentration. "I remember some things, strange things. I'm not sure if they're dreams or not, but they seem more real than any of that year. I remember stuff about a poem um . 'On the day of the dead. ' and. a sword! I crystal sword in a tower, and another man who called himself my father."  
  
"What if I told you that it was all true." Will asked, absently stroking the dog's head.  
  
"I. " Bran began, then he stopped. "I remember I fell. It was the milgwn. One appeared out of nowhere and scared me. Grey foxes. From. What was his name? The . the Brenin Llwyd." Bran raised his eyes and stared into Will's eyes. "I remember. I remember everything."  
  
"You know what I am?" Will asked.  
  
"And Old One of the Light. We fought the Dark together all those years ago, when I was the Pendragon, son of Arthur. The memories were taken from me, when I gave up my place at Arthur's side."  
  
Will nodded. "Bran, you need to come back with me. I need you to wake up."  
  
"I don't know how." Bran stared pleadingly into Will's face. "I want to, but I don't know how."  
  
"Take my hand." Will said, extending his.  
  
Bran looked sadly at Will's hand, and then took a longing look at his dog. "Bye Cafal."  
  
He grasped Will's hand tightly, his pale skin a stark contrast to Will's tanned hide. "Take me back."  
  
*  
  
Like it? Love it? Hate it? Please review and tell me! This is the very first DIR fic I've ever written 


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